Its not that simple. What we also need is you, specifically because youre his brother, a family member. Once weve officially-so to speak-labeled this an accidental death, we need you to go in, act like a grieving brother, look like youre closing up Jons affairs.
Thats hardly going to be an act, Cord said. Its what I have to do. There is no one else.
Exactly. The thing is, wherever your brother hid his stockpile of information, he hid it well. Its not as if we havent been trying to track down evidence long before this happened. And although we dont know precisely what role Sophie Campbell plays in this, we do know she had more access to his place, to him, than anyone else. We havent been able to dig up any incriminating background on her, but we all believe she knows more than shes saying. Someone who wasnt connected to the law might have a significantly better chance to get her talking.
Cord grabbed his jacket and folio of student papers and notes. Enough was enough. Hed had more than he could take. If youre asking me to spy, as I said before-forget it.
Were asking you to talk to her. Which should naturally happen if youre in your brothers apartment-shes right there. If she happens to tell you information that you judge as valuable, were asking you to communicate-preferably to me, first. This, from the detective.
But it was Ferrell who was looking at him. Ferrell who wanted anything he dug up. First.
But it was Ferrell who was looking at him. Ferrell who wanted anything he dug up. First.
Cord motioned them all to the door. This party was over. He wished he could hurl something. Even though he was two years younger than Jon, he couldnt remember a time he wasnt cleaning up Jons messesbut this was by far the most disturbing and ugliest.
As far as this Sophie character, though, Cord already had her pictured, because he knew the kind of woman his brother went for.
Jon liked sluts. Lookers with long legs and spongy morals. Often enough, Jon pursued women who were married or already committed, because he found it more fun to seduce a woman who was supposed to be faithful. His favorite types had money, or looked as if they did. He preferred long-haired brunettes who had that look at a party-like they were prowling the gathering for men, like a cat hunted for meat.
Not that Cord minded wildcats.
Hed even tamed a few in the past. But at the moment, he was off women altogether-the hurt from Zoe still stuck like a blade-and beyond that, any woman who appealed to his brother never could, never would, ring his chimes.
Youll help us? Bassett pressed again.
Maybe. Cord couldnt think anymore. Not right now. I need to get my brother buried. I need to deal with my father. I need to find out what Im supposed to do as executor, and all that nonsense. I assume you dont want me near the place until youve done whatever investigating you plan to do. So give me the word when Ive got the freedom to go in, handle the place and my brothers things. Ill be happy to give you anything relevant I run across.
Ferrell looked as if he could finally breathe. Thats all were asking.
Cord shot him a dry look. Right.
When hed finally ushered the two men out the door, he stood in the lecture hall a moment longer. Rain was still drizzling down the windows, highlighting the loneliness of yellow lamplight on scarred desks. Out of nowhere, he felt the crushing weight of grief. He and Jon had always been polar opposites, but damn
Maybe thered never been respect or even liking. But they had been brothers.
Hed do what he could.
He just dreaded the days ahead.
Chapter 2
You know how much I love Caviar Sophie had been bubbling on for the last few minutes, but her voice faltered when she reached the apartment door. Even days later, it was hard to open that door, hard to step into the front hall without reliving the vision of Jons body lying there.
Thankfully, the Sunday coffee klatch group had insisted on walking her home. Now the three women all crowded into the cramped hall, no one planning on staying, just keeping her company for a few more minutes.
They werent just supporting her, Sophie knew. Jons death had the whole neighborhood in morbid thrall-especially the women. Crime wasnt new in D.C., but this was someone they knew. Every female in a three-mile radius-except Sophie-had lusted after Jon.
Quite a few had sampled his sexual talents-or so they claimed.
Dont start about that Caviar business, Sophie. Jan Howell was the tallest of the three brunettes, the trust funder who loved a party, artsy clothes and anything to do with gossip. Still, she had a good heart, and automatically started handing over the debris Sophie had dropped on the walk-her fuzzy gray scarf, her mitten, her half-eaten muffin in a bag. Youd take in every stray critter in the city, if we let you.
Not every one, Sophie said, defending herself. When the women laughed, she tried a different defense, since they obviously werent buying that one. The thing is, I really do love Caviar. And right now, its such a relief to have him. I come home from work and its so silent in here. At least I can curl up on the couch with some kind of warm body
Again, her voice trailed off.
Damn, but she couldnt seem to stop reliving it. That night. The cops. The detective with the cheap coat and hound-dog eyes, hunkering over her, asking her slow, patient questions. Her, blurting out that she had to find Caviar. Him, acting like she was a rich, spoiled-and suspicious-fruitcake. The flashing lights and lobby full of strangers and then that horrible silence after they all left and she was alone, with a rotten case of the jitters.
You called your sisters, didnt you? Hillary Smythe looked more like a bar waitress than a doctor. Shiny dark curls stretched down her back, accenting gorgeous skin and boobs that tended to exuberantly burst out of anything she wore. For the next year, she was studying under some fancy gene research doc at GW University, just a few blocks away. Sophie had long wondered if Hillary had some troubling secret in her past, because she was always so quiet-but she never missed a Sunday-morning coffee with the rest.
I called both sisters the day after it happened, Sophie assured her. I almost wish I hadnt. Theyve been calling nonstop ever since. Sooner or later, Ill get a tougher skin about this. Its justright now I still have that image of Jon every time I walk in the door.
Well, of course you do. It was a god-awful thing to go through!
Penelope Martin leaned against the thin row of mailboxes. She was stare-at beautiful, Sophied always thought. Breathtaking eyes, fabulous figure, dark hair rich and lustrous. The others sometimes whispered that she was harder than nails-Sophie could see she was a little manipulative, but she always stuck up for her. Penelope worked as a lobbyist, after all, and you just couldnt be cupcake-sweet and do that kind of job. More than the others, though, Penelope was enthralled with the Jon situation, as she called it. I just cant believe that the police decided it was an accidental death instead of murder. I mean, from how you described it, Sophie-
Sophie unzipped her jacket and sank down on the third step. Well, they seemed to decide that he was naked because hed probably been taking a shower. And then maybe he ran downstairs for his mail, thinking no one was there. Im the only other tenant in the building right now, and Jon knew I rarely get home before five.
Actually, that sounds logical to me. Jan invariably took the authoritative voice in these conversations, because she was the only one in the group who claimed to have nailed Jon-not that Hillary and Penelope hadnt tried.
Jon would undoubtedly have fit them all in, if hed lived long enough. With the exception of Sophie, of course. No one believed Jon would ever have come on to Sophie. Including Sophie.
Jan was still immersed in speculations. Heaven knows, I can picture Jon running around naked without a qualm. He didnt have a modest bone in his body. But it was freezing and rainy that afternoon. Logically, Id have thought hed have pulled on a jacket or something, even if he was only running downstairs for the mail.
Well, maybe it wasnt for mail. Maybe it was a delivery. UPS, or something like that.
But there was no package, Hillary reminded them all-she who could always be counted on to remember details. Besides, Sophie said he didnt have a mailbox key on him.
He literally didnt have anything on him, Sophie affirmed.
Penelope backtracked to her primary area of interest. Sowas he as hung as all the women said? Oh, thats right, Jan, you already knew firsthand-
God, what a thing to bring up.
Penelope let out a bark of a laugh. Up is definitely the relevant word. I heard that when a man dies, he tends to be erect. True or not, Sophie? Youre the only one whod know.
God, what a thing to bring up.
Penelope let out a bark of a laugh. Up is definitely the relevant word. I heard that when a man dies, he tends to be erect. True or not, Sophie? Youre the only one whod know.
Sophie rolled her eyes. Youre horrible! All of you! But they werent horrible. Theyd stayed long enough to make sure she was okay, even though she knew perfectly well they had stuff to do. Thanks so much, everybody, for walking me in. Im better, I swear. In fact, Im going straight upstairs to curl up on the couch with my big guy.
Thats our Sophie. Always the wild one, Hillary said, teasing, but then she said, more thoughtfully, But thats really the point about Jon. Why his accidentally dying just seems so ironic. I mean, he was wild. Youd think a number of the women he dropped would have been happy to kill him.
Happy to sleep with him, you mean, Jan said dryly. Ill bet it was half the D.C. area. The only women wanting to kill him would be those under the insane misconception he might grow up and consider a serious commitment.
Well Penelope still wasnt ready to let it go. At least no one ever complained he didnt show a woman a good time. He just couldnt stick to one woman.
Except for Sophie, of course, Hillary teased.
Hey. No need to bring me into this discussion.
Well, you are the only woman who escaped being ensnared by Jon, that we all know of. Cripes, Id have settled for being hurt. I never got a chance to make a play. Penelope sounded increasingly mournful.